Fascination washed through her. She’d never seen a human as insanely arresting before. His dark hair looked deliciously windswept and just touched the collar of his black shirt. How would it feel to spear her fingers through that luxuriant hair as he wrapped those powerful arms around her?
Heat seared through her and her grip tightened around the glass. It was the kind of thing she fantasized about when she was safe, and alone, in her bed. But it was too intimate for an anonymous hookup.
Yet the captivating image wouldn’t fade.
If she was going to have her annual one-night stand, he was the only one she wanted it with. Even if he was way out of her league.
And if she left it to chance, he’d barely give her a second glance.
She wanted more than that. She wanted to touch him, to inhale his scent and imprint him on her mind. To taste his flesh and feel his hard body possess her. But most of all she wanted, for a few magical moments, to pretend she was a normal human woman. A woman he found irresistible.
Her last wish would never happen, but neither would anything unless she gave Lady Luck a nudge. Her powers of psychic persuasion were limited. But when magnified by the power of her amethysts it should be just enough to snare his attention for a sex drenched hour or so.
It was the closest she’d ever get to the heart-deep connection she dreamed of.
He turned and walked towards the bar and the crowd parted before him like a subservient wave. She took a deep breath and followed him.
Happy birthday to me.
Chapter 2
Azrael
Azrael scanned the nightclub, but his mind was far from the surging horde of mortals surrounding him.
Nine hundred years ago, after freeing the captive phoenix, his visions of the vampire Sakarbaal and his dhampirs had abruptly stopped. Even though the vampire hadn’t been destroyed, every shred of evidence of his existence vanished overnight. The discordance that had tainted the phoenix essence in the astral planes faded and eventually disappeared but Sakarbaal’s escape ate into him like acid. It had taken centuries of fruitless searching before he allowed himself to consider the possibility the evil that had permeated his visions had finally ended.
Fifty years ago, they came back.
With a vengeance.
This time there was no filthy dhampir army. He never saw any faces. Only the aftermath of a blood-drenched apocalypse that ravaged the face of the Earth. But the same evil he recalled from before pervaded every scorched breath.
He’d spent the last half century in the Andromeda Galaxy, where countless mortal civilizations had flourished for millennia before any of those on Earth had arisen. But it didn’t matter how deep into the past he searched for answers or how many vampiric creatures he hunted or unholy relics he destroyed.
The visions only became more frequent. More graphic. Showing him a future where humanity became nothing more than a feeding ground for a false, self-professed god.
And then a few months ago a chillingly familiar, elusive vibration began to haunt the lower levels of the astral planes.
It could only mean one thing. Sakarbaal had, once again, captured a phoenix.
As he had always known deep in his heart, nine hundred years ago he hadn’t altered the future, merely delayed it.
He’d collated masses of intel on the vampire race, a scourge that polluted almost every mortal inhabited planet. But he uncovered no definitive link between vampires and phoenixes and there were no ancient sources of wisdom scattered across the universe that could help in his quest.
It was time to resume the hunt on Earth.
Before he did that, there was something else he needed to do. For six months, since one of his oldest friends, the Archangel Gabriel, had lost his immortality in a sadistic twist of fate, he’d avoided Gabe and his human-born bride, Aurora.
But it didn’t matter how deeply he wished he could change things. Gabe was mortal, and although in the past they had gone decades without seeing each other, that was no longer an option.
Gabe didn’t have endless centuries, anymore.
And he needed to meet Aurora. The woman who hadn’t simply captured Gabe’s heart, but had managed to shatter one of the fundamental tenets that archangels had lived with for millennia.
Yeah, he had to meet her. But he wasn’t looking forward to it. And that was why he’d ended up in this club tonight, as a distraction from both his mission and tomorrow’s meeting.
So far, it wasn’t working.
A spiky-haired brunette, diamonds sparkling in her ears and around her throat, offered him a sultry smile as she gyrated in time to the music. Desire and hunger radiated from her, and every sexy move of her body brought her closer to him, her invitation blatant. She was beautiful, but not appealing.
Not that he did humans as a rule. They were too fragile and brought back too many bad memories. Of a time, long ago, when archangels had lived openly on Earth, and he’d witnessed the devastating heartache of his immortal friends when their beloved soulmate had died.
Sex without any emotional ties was the mantra he lived by. Though now he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had sex.
He focused on the woman as she gave him another seductive glance from beneath her lashes. The flirtatious gesture did nothing for his libido. But since he was here, what the hell.
He might even enjoy the novelty.
As she twined around his body, his glance snagged on a woman who was glaring at the brunette as she gyrated against his back. Fascinated by her antagonism, he trailed his gaze over her midnight hair, piled on top of her head in a messy chignon. Long tendrils escaped their confines and framed her face, giving her a cute, vulnerable air.
Gods, had he just seriously thought a human was cute?
But there was something intriguing about the way she stood, like a warrior sizing up her prey. The short black dress gave a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, clung possessively to her breasts and showed off her shapely thighs and calves. Purple lace—stockings? —matched her purple ankle boots and the jewelry in her ears and around her throat and wrists.
Anticipation thrummed through his blood. She might be merely a human, but there was something irresistible about her, and he took a couple of steps towards her.
She visibly started and shot him an uncertain glance, as her left hand curled around an amethyst that hung from a silver chain around her throat. It was a defensive gesture and before he could say anything she glanced furtively over her shoulder. Did she seriously think his focus was centered on something behind her?
Or was she playing games? He didn’t care. She’d managed to take his mind off Gabe and Aurora and that was all he wanted.
“Hey.” He accompanied his greeting with a smile guaranteed to melt the defenses of an ice goddess. Instead of dissolving into his arms with a seductive sigh, she stared at him, and confusion glowed in her captivating green eyes.
Why hadn’t she expected him to speak to her? She was fucking gorgeous, and she had to know it.
“Hi.” She sounded guarded and he had the strangest conviction she wasn’t playing him. What was she doing?
He offered her another archangelic infused smile. She still didn’t metaphorically fall at his feet.
Interesting.
“Do you two know each other?”
“What?” She blinked, severing their connection, before glancing at the other woman who was now stalking to the bar. There was no lingering hint of the animosity he’d seen just moments ago. “Oh. No.”
She released her death grip on her necklace and flattened her palm against her thigh. He waited, but it appeared that was all she had to say on the matter.
Countless times in the past mortals had been rendered speechless in his presence. But this was different. She had no idea who he was, and the brief glimpse of celestial radiance he’d aimed at her hadn’t appeared to affect her at all.
Which was intriguing enough. But combined with the heat in her eye
s when she’d looked at him, her genuine shock when he’d spoken to her, and obvious disdain for small talk, she was one of the most fascinating mortals he’d ever met.
“Would you like to dance?” The incongruity of an archangel asking a human to dance amused him, but he kept his grin to himself. Because right now, all he wanted was to hold her in his arms and feel her body meld against his. For the first time in forever his blood stirred and cock thickened.
Hello, libido.
“Dance?” She sounded amazed that he’d asked her such a thing.
“Sure. We’re in a club. We could dance.”
“Oh.” Her fingers tightened around her drink. “I’m not sure.”
She gave the impression she wasn’t interested, but he knew that wasn’t true. Desire spiked from her in a heady, intoxicating scent that sank into his skin and caused his pulses to quicken. He couldn’t even recall the last time a woman had elicited such a reaction without them even touching.
“You’re not sure if you want to dance with me?” This was a crazy conversation. He’d never had to work so hard to get a favorable response from a mortal.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had as much fun.
She blinked at him, her long dark lashes a lethal distraction. “No, I mean I can’t dance.”
Neither could most of the humans in the club, but it didn’t stop them trying to prove otherwise.
“That makes two of us.”
“I’m sure you’re great.” She sounded serious. “And I’d love to dance, but I thought I should warn you that I’m crap at it.”
“Are you trying to tell me to get lost? Because you don’t have to sugar coat it to protect my feelings.”
“No.” Alarm flashed across her face. Shit, she thought he meant it. His flirting technique clearly sucked. “I don’t want you to go. I’m still just… processing things.”
He grinned, plucked her drink from her hand and placed it on a nearby ledge. “How about we process things together?”
“Okay.”
He took her hand. It was small, fine boned, an unwelcome reminder of her inherent fragility. But that didn’t stop her touch from sending lightning sparks racing through his blood. It was insane how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms.
Once they were on the dance floor, she turned to face him. He slid his fingers along her bare arm, and she quivered, a breathy sigh escaping her crimson lips.
It was all the encouragement he needed, and he cradled her waist. After a moment’s hesitation she flattened her palms against his chest. Even through his shirt, her touch scorched his flesh and he tugged her closer. But she didn’t wrap her arms around him, and her resistance to his unspoken invitation was surprisingly strong.
“I told you I couldn’t dance,” she said, and he had the strongest sense that she assumed he’d agree with her. “Then again, it’s not like I give it much practice.”
She hadn’t raised her voice to be heard over the pounding music and although he could hear her perfectly, it occurred to him he hadn’t made any effort to speak over the volume, either. Yet she’d not missed a word. Odd when everyone around them accompanied their raised voices with exaggerated gesticulation.
“You know what they say.” Deliberately he lowered his voice, but she didn’t frown or lean in closer. “Practice makes perfect.”
“I don’t get out much.” She offered him a glimmer of a smile. It damn well stopped the breath in his chest. “At least I haven’t stamped on your foot yet.”
She wasn’t close enough to stamp on his foot. He slid one hand to the small of her back and slowly drew her unresisting body towards him. She gave a delectable sigh as her hands curled over his shoulders and at long last she melted against him.
Her face nestled against his shoulder, and her hair brushed against his jaw. He inhaled a ragged breath and caught an elusive hint of jasmine, and the scent mingled irresistibly with the faint undertone of aroused femininity.
His arms tightened around her, one hand gliding up the length of her spine, the soft silk of her dress a sensual caress against his skin. She shifted against him and he was so damn hard it hurt. Then she linked her hands around his neck and gave a soundless sigh.
It was the most erotic sensation he’d experienced in centuries.
What had they been talking about? It didn’t matter. He lowered his head and nibbled kisses along her neck, the taste of her skin a heady combination of temptation and desire. Tremors licked through her, heightening his own lust and she sank completely against him, a torturous delight.
“What’s your name?” His question rasped against the delectable curve where neck met shoulder. It would take no effort to rip her flimsy dress from her. Soon. But he could hardly contain the primitive urge to possess.
“Rowan.” Her voice promised everything. He waited for her to ask his name, but she didn’t. Instead her fingers speared through his hair and gently tugged. Sparks of flame ignited across his skull, and as she twisted his hair around her fingers a certainty throbbed through his lust drugged mind. He didn’t merely want a quick fuck with this bewitching human.
He wanted Rowan for the whole night.
Chapter 3
Rowan
Rowan dragged her fingers from his silky hair and trailed her fingertips across his nape. His hands, possessively splayed across her back, held her in a firm grip. Clearly, he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.
His muscled chest pressed against her sensitized breasts and his rigid length branded her. A tremor raced through her, raising goose bumps on her arms and causing her breath to stumble in her throat. She shifted against him and his hot breath caressed her neck.
He wanted her. And she hadn’t even had time to use the psychic powers of her amethysts to snare him. Not only was the hottest guy she’d seen in years in her arms, but he was there without any subtle manipulation on her part.
“Are you here alone?” The raw need in his voice was electrifying.
I wish I was. Then, maybe, she and this warrior like god could have more than a hasty coupling in a dark corner. Except it didn’t matter if she was here with anyone else or not. A small pain speared through her heart at the reminder that no matter what, she could never expect anything more.
“No. I’m with a friend.”
“Rowan.” He made her name sound sinfully seductive and she was so entranced she lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him. And almost stopped breathing. She’d forgotten, in just those few short moments, how utterly compelling he was. Truly a god in the flesh.
She would savor these moments forever.
“Rowan.” His voice dropped a couple of octaves and while it should have been impossible, he sounded sexier than ever. “I want to spend the night with you.”
Illicit thrills spiraled through her. A whole night. Wrapped in his arms. She hadn’t spent the whole night with a guy since Steven.
If she was a pureblood human, she’d never take such a risk. But even if this glorious stranger turned out to be a murderous psychopath it didn’t matter. She could break his neck in a heartbeat.
But she, who trusted no one outside her small circle within the Enclave, inexplicably trusted this warrior-god. He wasn’t dangerous. He was a hot, lust-fueled male and he wanted her.
She rose onto her toes and he met her halfway, his lips brushing hers in a caress so fleeting their flesh barely connected. Yet she felt the heat of his touch arrow through her breast and shatter with exquisite shards of lightning between her trembling thighs.
His arms wrapped around her pinning her against his hard body. It had been so long since she’d been held like this. So long since primal desire had thundered through her blood and clouded her survival instincts.
She trailed her fingers from his temple to his jaw. Faint stubble grazed her fingertips and his wickedly seductive smile tied pleasurable knots of desire in her chest. Cradling his strong jaw in her palm she leaned into him and savored the evocative hint of cinnamo
n on his uneven breath, before claiming his lips.
The cacophony of sound faded. All that existed was this man in her arms. Tingles cascaded over her flesh as if this was her first kiss. It almost was. She hadn’t kissed anyone this way in seven years.
His tongue met hers. But he didn’t invade her willing mouth. Didn’t plunder the way she’d got used to. Instead he teased her with fleeting strokes between her hungry lips. Flicked the tip of her tongue. Seductively nipped her lower lip.
Wet heat blossomed between her thighs and she moaned, a low, sultry sound. She couldn’t help it. Didn’t care. She’d never imagined a kiss could be so amazingly erotic.
Her nipples chafed against the lace of her bra. She longed to feel his naked chest pressed against her, skin to skin. Her fingers clawed and from a great distance she heard an appreciative growl rumble through his body.
“Is this a yes?” His question scorched her lips. For a passion-hazed moment she had no idea what he was asking. His beautiful lips curved into a smile as though he guessed. “You’ll stay with me tonight?”
Of course it was a yes. How could he imagine otherwise? But a tug of delight tightened low in her belly that he had taken the time to ask. To make sure.
Slowly she raised her head, his jaw scraping along the soft skin of her cheek. She wanted to look into his eyes. See his desire. She didn’t want to spoil the moment. Didn’t want to shatter these fragile tendrils of sensation. But she had to find the words to answer him.
“Rowan.” Meg’s imperious tone invaded her sensual cocoon and she stiffened. No. She would not have this precious moment interrupted. “Rowan, cheri, I need to speak to you.”
She watched her warrior-god frown as his focus shifted to Meg. Impotent rage, disappointment, futility, swept through her. Why right now? There was nothing so important that Meg needed to interrupt her for. And surely she hadn’t already finished with her two conquests?
Nemesis: Paranormal Angel Romance (Realm of Flame and Shadow Book 2) Page 2
